


Paths we will never walk

by ayazuri



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dreams and Nightmares, Episode Related, M/M, Mentions of Character Death, Post-Relationship, s5ep6, tragic events awake some memories, vague mentions of character - George Fancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 11:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16346048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayazuri/pseuds/ayazuri
Summary: In his dream it’s Jakes who dies in that pub.The events, setting, actions – everything is really (almost) the same, except just this one person swaps places. So naturally, Jakes’ body lays there, in the exact same spot where they’ve found George, in the exact same position.





	Paths we will never walk

In his dream it’s Jakes who dies in that pub.

The events, setting, actions – everything is really (almost) the same, except just this one person swaps places. So naturally, Jakes’ body lays there, in the exact same spot where they’ve found George, in the exact same position.

In his dream all is unbearably realistic. Morse feels the cold fear spreading in his body. His mind is a haze, he can’t focus on anything other than futile prayers, even though he knows it’s already too late. He’s painfully aware of what’s going to happen next. In a matter of seconds he’s going to spring to the body stretched on the floor. He’s going to drop to his knees and try pumping life back into Jakes – _just like he’s tried bringing life back to George -_ all the while trying desperately not to look in the glassy, dead eyes, that used to be so full of all kinds emotions. But eventually, he’s going to give up and gaze at the pale and still face and he’s going to cry out when there’s no space left for any hope whatsoever.

Naturally, Morse does all that because he’s already gone through it and there’s no turning back, not even in the realm of his dreams. Life’s a play, and so the play continues on and on, and when Morse is clutching at Jakeshe’s almost sure his heart is going to break any minute now. Strangled sob escapes his lips and suddenly they’re peeling him off of Jakes, draging him away. _This is not how things went,_ part of him realizes with a slight delay, but it doesn’t really matter because the pain is just too much.

_Don’t! Don’t you dare take him away from me!_ He cries, or so he thinks. It’s important, this _from me_ part, they have to know that Morse can’t do this anymore, not when all’s gone, when everything he has a courage to call his, is taken away from him.

Suddenly there’s no air in his lungs, no air all around him to breathe. He suffocates. The world starts spinning and the setting changes. Jakes stands in front of him, tall and serious, with annoyed flicker in his eyes and a faint trace of a smirk playing across his lips, and he’s very alive. Morse chokes on the relief that fills his chest, but euphoria fades as quickly as it’s appeared when he realizes where they are and what’s going to happen. _Why couldn’t there be a happy ending just for once?_

They’re at his place and it’s the last night. _Their_ last night , and the next day Jakes is going to leave him – _leaves him, has left him -_ for good. Jakes’s smoking, of course he is, and scrutinises Morse with his sharp gaze. Morse shivers under the intensity of this look. Jakes titles his head ever so slightly, shadows splaying across his face.

‘This thing between us’ Jakes begins ‘what it was?’

_Was._ Past tense in his question stings as hard as it’s done in reality. Morse puts on his best mask and shrugs, just like he’s done in reality. Pretends one more time, that Jakes hasn’t been rooted so deeply in his soul. And Jakes does the same as he’s done, because there’s never been any other way after all. He takes the last long drag of his cigarette, exhales the smoke and then throws what little remains of the cigarette into his half empty glass of scotch. Takes three steps and closes the distance between them. His hands come to cup Morse’s cheeks and just before he pulls him into passionate kiss, Morse manages to ask the question that sits on his tongue.

‘Did you care?’ _(Did you love me?)_

Jakes looks him straight in the eye but Morse can’t decipher what’s hidden behind his gaze.

‘Don’t ask stupid questions.’ _(I did.)_

And Morse feels it all again. The burning touch and the memory of it that he’s going to carry as a beacon, until the image of Peter fades eventually – _although Morse is adamant to keep it in his mind forever._ The smell of cigarettes and ash and fine cologne and _Jakes,_ his warm breath on Morse’s skin and the invisible imprint of his lips on Morse’s neck. The way Jakes’ arms have felt wrapped around his body and the way they’ve been able to work together so well, despite all that they’ve never had in common.

 

Morse awakes with a start. He’s soaked wet with his own sweat, his chest heaving heavily. He feels a splitting headache coming as inevitably as a tidal wave, the result of his yesterday’s overdoing it with alcohol. In his mouth he feels the bitter aftertaste of the nightmare and still lingering burn of the scotch. The weight of the events of the previous day returns to tie him down . Sheets tangled around his form feel like shackles. Suddenly, his bed is too empty and too cold altogether, something he’s managed not to notice for quite a bit now. As if the dream has awoken what Morse’s kept hidden deep inside ever since he last saw Jakes. He can’t bring himself to stand up. There’s just too much to process, too many things that haven’t reached his consciousness just yet. Once again he would have to get used to the empty desk at the station – he had to when Jakes left (him), and now that George is gone…

Morse releases a breath he’s been holding. This is the first time in almost a year and a half that he’s been dreaming of Peter.

In the faint light of the dawn, he feels as lonely as he’s never felt before. The world around him crumbles again, yet he has to keep on living, keep on going. With a sight he finally manages to crawl out of his bed. He puts his best records on, as loud as the record player can manage, and doesn’t let the darkness overtake him.

**Author's Note:**

> I've just recently revisited the Endeavour series and fell harder than ever before. And of course I fell for a rather problematic ship, that was never ment to sail anyway. What else is new?  
> Anyway, the idea popped up in head - what if the events from Icarus (poor George...) triggered something in Morse and....? So I sat down, wrote it down in a manic, writers haze. The story is unbetaed (or however one writes it... you know the drill) and English is not my first language, so if you spot anything that really hurts your eyes let me know, I'll do my best to fix it.  
> Enjoy the ride!


End file.
